"Be Nice"

                                                 
                                               "Be Nice"
                                "It's nice to be nice"

       Part One

“Be nice”. We all grew up hearing those words from our Moms, Dads and

Grandparents. I remember when I was in the first grade and my mother,

in response to something I said, or did, scolded, “Be nice!”

“Why?” I asked.

And her answer (or non-answer) was “Well, because…it’s nice to be nice.”

I love and respect words, but ‘Nice’ is such an insipid word, like

watery soup, (yuk) or weak coffee.

But I do try to be nice; most recently at a concert at the Long Beach

Library. When I go to one of their programs I’ve learned to choose a seat

after many are already seated, so I could find one that has a clear view of

the stage…meaning of course not behind a big man.

My method usually works for me but that day just as the concert

was about to begin a woman came over to me and asked if I would

mind moving over one seat so she and her mother could sit together.

I said “OK” and learned only one minute into the show that my new seat

didn’t work too well for me. I couldn’t see the vocalist because a huge

platinum blond head (covering a small gray head?) blocked my view. I

had to twist my shoulder for that hour and as a result for the next few days I

had a crick in my neck. So I decided, no more ‘Mr. Nice Guy’.

Fast forward 3 weeks. Another great program at the library. As usual I

waited to choose a seat, found one with a clear view of the stage and

settled myself in anticipation. The lights went out and barely a minute

later it happened again, a young couple came up the aisle, the man

walked into my row and whispered to me. “ Ma’am, would you mind

moving up a seat so my friend and I could sit together?”

I was prepared, “ Sorry, no,” I shook my head, " no…I can’t…sorry”.

“Okay” he said. Crossing in front of me he took the seat to my right while

his friend…girlfriend? took the seat to my left.

The concert consisted of music from the Broadway musicals going back

decades...such as 'Bali Hai’ from South Pacific, and 'Shall We

Dance' from The King and I. Then, as a duet of  'If I Loved You' was

performed I felt movement from the seat on my right as the fellow

leaned forward across my air space to look at his girlfriend and she at

my left leaned forward across my air space to look at him.

Oh no, is this their song? It wasn't, it was followed by more love songs,

and more glances at each other across my line of vision.

I’ll kill myself, I thought, squirming uncomfortably in my seat, I am not

enjoying this concert at all! And then from the corner of my eye I could see

him mouthing some words to her. That’s it!!

I turned to Lover Boy, “Let’s switch seats” I said.

“No, no” he leaned back in his seat, “we’re fine, really.”

If you’re ‘fine’ I wanted to say, then cut it out, it's sweet how you  look

longingly at each other, but you’re invading my space, (as the young ones call

it). The concert will be over soon and then you can look, touch, get a room,

whatever, but not yet. I’m here!

I was glad when it was all over. But I was in a dilemma, which was

preferable, being ’nice’ but not seeing the stage well and getting a sore

neck or what happened today when I wasn’t ’nice’ but had a good view of

the stage? The answer was…neither one!

I do my best thinking while I’m driving. On my way home I wasn’t feeling

so good about the afternoon; the words that my mother said to me all those

years ago still rang in my head…‘It’s nice to be nice’. Sure, I like to as well

as anyone. And I love the idea of young love or old love for that matter.

While I waited for the red light to turn to green arrow it hit me, it was so

simple a child or a senior like myself, can see it; Rearrange my schedule, do

my errands after the concert so I can get to the Library earlier, much, much

earlier and get myself into an aisle seat. PROBLEM SOLVED!

                                             THE END

 




                                                     BE NICE
                                                  (but not too nice)

     Part 2

“Be nice” had a new twistd that happened the very next day at my

neighborhood Walgreens.

My mother is 98 years old and doing great. But she can no longer shop for

herself so I get her the things she needs. This time she needed some personal

items, and I did too. I got to the store early in the afternoon because I had

to pick up my 9 year old granddaughter from school, as I did every Monday.

My neighbor’s son Matt, (40ish) works at Walgreens and is …yes, I’ll say it, a

very nice guy. He gave me a friendly greeting when he saw me and asked

if I, (his senior citizen neighbor) needed his help. I didn’t, I knew the

store very well, having spent untold hours in it Also I didn’t feel that I

wanted to share mine and my mother’s personal business with him...

and then what?...explain which items were not for me but for my mother,

(at least not yet., but will someday if I am lucky!)

So with my... oh so nice and helpful neighbor accompanying me as we chatted
            
about our New York weather I passed by Aisle 7 where the pantiliners were.

We discussed the new boardwalk as I passed by Aisle 12 that held the denture

cream, passed the 'digestive aids' in Aisle 3, and the hearing aid batteries in Aisle 6

as we speculated about the new neighbor on the block. 

I couldn't shake him! On impulse I, (and he) went into the Housewares aisle,

I dropped a bottle of dish detergent into my cart, not happy because I

didn't need it and it wasn’t on sale yet. In the grocery aisle, I took a box of

Cheerios dropped it into my cart, again, not happy, not on sale. And then in

a flash of inspiration, I, (we) turned into the greeting card aisle and I, (we)

stopped in front of the Get Well cards. Thankfully, I didn’t need one at this

time but I had to get rid of him and the old saying came to mind; 'Don't ask

how someone is feeling unless you really want to know and have the time to

hear it'. It worked, a minute later he was gone, back to his work and I could

get  what I went in there for!

                                                   THE END





                                                  "Be Nice"
                                        ("er good)
Part 3

I got to Emily’s school a few minutes too late to get my usual parking spot right

in front;  I parked on the corner... but she wouldn’t see my car when she came out.

So I violated Rule # 1 and got out and stood by the door where the other mothers and

grandmothers waited for the children. And of course I had my explicit instructions

from Emily (and from all my grandchildren when they were that age;) “ Don’t wave

to me, don’t call me, I’ll look for you..., don't hug me or kiss me..."

I saw her right away as she walked out with her friend and though I couldn't make

out the words it was obvious that they were arguing They parted and Emily

looked on the street where my car usually was and then not seeing it glanced around

the crowd until she spotted me. I didn't get a wave or a hug or a kiss but I did get one

of her bright beautiful smiles.

When we got into the car I waited at least half a minute, "Wow, you girls were

really going at it...what made you so angry? She's your friend..."

"She's not! I don't like her anymore!"

"Oh, that's not...not ...nice." I said.

Emily gave me a long stare," You always say that Grandma."

"What?" I asked.

" Nice...not nice... be nice"

"Do I?" That word has bugged me all my life and I was passing it down the ages to

the next generation??

Not .... good.


                                                          THE END